Wanderers
by Lushard
Summary: Cloud didn't see it coming: the strange mark appearing on his arm, the phone call, the storm, the quake... All he knows that he wakes up in a world that is not his, and is greeted by a female warrior with green eyes. And what in the Planet is l'Cie?
1. Chapter 1

A Final Fantasy VII/XIII fanfiction by Lushard

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**ARC I**

**- Lost -**

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**Chapter 01**

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It all started with what he had assumed as a trivial matter.

In place where his geostigma had been, there was a new aching that he had first ignored. He must have overworked himself in that last delivery when he had been confronted by a pack of hungry wolves. After pouring a stash of Hi-Potion as a just-in-case prevention, Cloud had paid it no mind.

Until now.

Frowning, he looked at his left arm, eyes and brain not working well in tandem with what he was seeing. There was some sort of a...dull mark on his skin. It had appeared without him noticing and it looked and felt as if it had been carved by a sharp tip of a burnt object. Scratchy, not quite as painful as the wretched stigma, but it was throbbing none-the-less.

A series of possibilities came across his mind. Could it be that the geostigma had an after effect? No it couldn't be. At least he thought it couldn't. Aerith's healing water should have taken care of any lingering virus in one's body, for such was the prowess of a Cetra's unexplainable healing magic. Then could it be that a new disease was plaguing him? But if so, what was the cause? The greater question still: how it would affect him? So far he had yet to feel weakened or ill.

Cloud shifted his gaze to the darkening sky above. The city of Edge was in the vicinity, and on top of it thick, black clouds were forming, a sign of a storm to come. His delivery had just been finished and he only had to return to the new Seventh Heaven. But he couldn't just yet.

Fishing for his PHS in his pocket, he flipped the device open and dialed Rufus Shinra's. Though he was reluctant to, Cloud had to admit that the man knew his way around anything that a scientist was supposed to know about the Planet.

"Yes, Cloud?" Rufus' voice came.

"Can I drop by?" He had never been one of polite nonsense. "There's something I want you to check."

"Do come."

Cloud mumbled his thanks and started Fenrir.

Moments later he had Rufus peering close to his arm. Rufus' eyes were narrowing in concentration, fingers probing Cloud's skin. "Most intriguing," he said in a murmur, as if to himself. He pressed two fingers against the mark, and Cloud felt a stab of pain. "It hurts?"

He grunted in response.

Cloud was seated on a sofa in one of the surviving Shinra's lodges. Now back in active duty, Rufus was once again a busy man who strove to amend for what he and his father had done before Meteor. But still, even when wearing a clean suit of a company man, he was a scientist at heart. There were labs in each of his abode where Cloud knew the man would gladly shut himself in were there no paperwork for him to do.

Rufus' curiosity was boundless. It was well hidden beneath the cool exterior and professional demeanor of a businessman that his aura spoke of. But now seated beside him was the Rufus he had rarely seen: absorbed in a new finding, focused and without a trace of malicious intent. How time had changed things, Cloud mused.

Rufus withdrew his fingers and inspected it closer. "Hmm. It looked like a fresh tattoo to me and nothing else," he said. "The pattern is hard to trace too. It's too subtle."

"No reading on magic whatsoever?"

"No. I've checked. So, constant throbbing pain is our only lead?"

"Sometimes it recedes into a dull pain. But it's still there, the sensation."

"How long has it been?"

"The last six hours."

Rufus threw a half smile. "And you suspected if to be skin irritation or the likes."

It wasn't a question so Cloud kept silent. Rufus' female subordinate, Elena if Cloud didn't recall her name wrong, strode into living room with a cellphone in hand. "Director, there is a call for you," she said to Rufus.

"From whom?"

"Vincent Valentine, Sir."

Cloud and Rufus glanced at each other before the silver hair gestured for Elena to hand the phone over to him. "Yes, Valentine?"

SOLDIER hearing let Cloud listen to Vincent's voice with little to no difficulty. "I cannot reach Reeve Tuesti," was the marksman's blunt opening. He too was someone who never bothered with pleasantries. "Might you know where he is?"

Rufus' brows knitted together. "I've just had a phone meeting with him two hours ago."

"Well. _Now _he cannot be contacted. Must I complain to the provider?" Vincent asked, and people would have regarded it as a sarcastic question were it not coming from him. Anyone who had spent at least two hours near Vincent would know that the man was clueless when it came to modern technology that weren't designed to shoot bullets or cut objects.

"I'll check," Rufus said, and switched line to dial Reeve's. It couldn't connect.

At the same time Rufus was on the line with Vincent again Cloud's own PHS vibrated. From Seventh Heaven, the screen informed him. He pressed the 'Answer' button and instantly, Marlene's shrieking voice threatened to deafen him. "Cloud?! Cloud, can you hear me?! Please answer!"

Cloud winced at the loudness of statics and Marlene's voice. "Yes. What's wrong?"

"There's a storm in the city. And Tifa's gone!" came the panicked reply. "Denzel's the only one with me, and I can't contact Papa too!"

Fear almost rose in Cloud's chest but he quickly stomped over it. "'Gone'?" he repeated. Rufus' head swivelled at him. "What do you mean, Marlene?"

"She was in her room a minute ago, and when the storm hit she was not there!"

Marlene now sounded as if she was ready to break down. Denzel's voice took over. "Cloud, the electricity has died down. What do I and Marlene do?" The boy's voice was not as panicked as Marlene's but Cloud could hear his distress.

Cloud stood and walked to the window, spotting Edge kilometres away and was surprised to see that the sky was almost pitch black, covered by thunderclouds. This was no ordinary storm all right. "Calm down. Don't go outside, and-"

The statics grew worse and in the next second the line was cut. Cloud resisted the urge to scowl. He was aware of his fastening heartbeat. Tifa was gone? What in the hell had just struck the world? He turned at Rufus, whose signal connection had apparently been cut too. "What's with this storm?"

"It isn't normal," he said, glancing up. He issued an order to Elena to check the computers for any strange readings while he opened his own laptop. The screen flashed to life and Rufus immediately shook his head. "No service. I can't even reach the main server."

Whatever thought Cloud had left was swallowed when suddenly, the lights in the house were out and he felt the ground shake. His enhanced vision allowed him to see Rufus stumbling to the floor, and he would have done something, screamed, but a great pain lanced through every nerve in his body, paralyzing him.

The mark was burning; heat was consuming him alive. He knelt on the floor, clutched at his arm, as the pain intensified. It blinded him. And to the darkness he succumbed.

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VII - x - XIII

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Hope Estheim had spent years in the merciless hands of Bhunivelze to learn that emotions and feelings were out of the question whilst working to fulfill his new purpose under the god. He had read what fate Bhunivelze had to foretell, had listened to his voice over and over and be forced to accept it as his only guide in life, had seen and experienced torture beyond imagination that he now couldn't even feel a twinge of curiosity at the new finding showing on the many screens before him. It was only natural. He, after all, had been re-programmed by the god to simply act and not feel.

'ANOMALY' the screens read. Glowing red dots appeared on the world map. They were scattered all around the area.

Hope's nimble fingers typed on the massive board, his eyes leaping from one monitor to the other. There was something going on in the realm below, but he couldn't pick up what. His radar was functioning normally but it couldn't read the strange signals coming from several places all at once. This reading...it resembled the Chaos. Only that the Chaos didn't pop up so randomly and in so many places at the same time without any trigger. People randomly losing their sanity and turning into the darkness within and around them was an absurd idea. Unless the world decided that the thirteen days humanity had been granted were to be shortened into mere minutes.

"Light?" he tried to make a call.

A short moment of waiting had him almost suspicious that Lightning, the world's Saviour he was meant to assist, had not heard him. But after a short moment she replied. "There's something wrong."

From one of the monitors he could see that the she was standing statue still in an open plain. Lightning was in the Wildlands, still wielding the Crimson Blitz in one hand and Night Lotus shield in the other, looking fresh from a fight. Behind her was remnants of a wild monster, already fading from the realm as shards of black and white engulfed its being. Lightning's eyes were transfixed on the sky, and Hope had the monitor show what she was seeing.

Black clouds were dancing above the greenery. They were quickly enveloping the area with darkness, travelling with such a speed that within a blink of an eye everything on land was shaded. A storm? His reading didn't indicate so. Whatever it was, it was not of natural phenomenon. Hope checked the other cities and areas only to find that the same thing was happening across the world.

Hope said, "I'm trying to look into it but so far I've found nothing."

Suddenly all the monitors blacked out. Hope abruptly stood, sending his chair tumbling back, surprised. Before he could do something about it they all functioned again, showing images and data as they had before like the blackout hadn't happened.

Strange. The Ark had never suffered a shutdown before, let alone a power shortage. The Ark existed in a realm inside Bhunivelze's very consciousness, and so, it was supposed to be untouched by any changes or factors coming from the external realms. Except...that whatever happening below was something that even transcended not only time and space, but also the god's core of existence. It was a theory Hope found almost impossible. Such a thing had never happened before.

He eyed the Tree behind him to see if it had reacted somewhat. It stood passively still.

He prayed that he wasn't simply imagining things. He knew he was running out of time, but he'd be damned if the curse was redoubled with the burden of being delusional. Hope tried to scan the monitors for signs of change as he reached for Lightning again.

"What happened there, Light?" The Ark showed that the dots had their frequency reduced to that of chaos. It did no longer alarm him of any further anomalies. Yet.

Statics colored the connection when Lightning's voice carried through. "There was a quake. Very brief. Accompanied by lightning strikes. And now the dark clouds are gone; the sky's as clear as it had been a minute ago."

Suspicious. "That was too quick."

"It was. Found anything cute?"

Hope found the fact that Lightning could jest with her emotions stripped _was_, but he was too focused by the dot marks to make a comment on it. "Yes. It seems that it was the Chaos. Or something close to it." He once again glanced at the Yggdrasil, waiting for a silent voice to inform him of something, of anything.

He heard nothing. He turned his attention back to Lightning again. "I get a reading coming from the forest southwest of you. Mind to check it out?"

"You don't need to ask." Lightning strapped her sword on her back and began jogging towards the pinpointed location.

Hope leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, sorting his thoughts. He had lost the ability to feel anxiety, but he simply knew that there was something happening down there. The ancient soul within him had the intuition that was rarely off the mark.

* * *

VII - x - XIII

* * *

Cloud woke up with a start.

He quickly rolled to one knee, assuming a defensive position, his hand instantly found the hilt of his sword. Such was an instinct he had developed over the years of being a light sleeper and being haunted by people and creatures with intention of harming him.

All around him was a sight of lush green. The air was clear and had an exotic smell to it, something that resembled mint and dark cocoa. He was clearly in a forest, surrounded by tall trees and plants he did not recognize; the ground was soft beneath his boots.

Where was he? What had happened?

The last moments of the time he'd spent in Rufus' lodge came rushing in. Marlene's call...and then... The storm! And the quake!

Cloud looked around, frantic, and found that he was alone in the woods. There was no one in his range of vision. No Rufus, no Elena. No signs of the luxurious penthouse where he had been. His brain started to formulate questions, but before he could process them the pain on his left arm throbbed again. He looked at his arm.

A strange, black mark had appeared on his skin. It was...pulsing with life. The mark emitted a soft, red glow that glimmered. What on the Planet was it?

SOLDIER instinct told him that there was another presence nearing his position. Soft steps on the soil resounded, and his eyes soon caught a movement amidst the bushes. He tightened his grip on First Tsurugi.

"Who's there?"

A feminine voice. Deep, and one that was used at giving commands.

Cloud slowly stood up, still in a guarded stance, ready to pounce. He sensed that the woman had stopped a good distance away from him, probably assuming a wary stance as well. They were separated by thick bushes, but they didn't prevent his vision from analyzing any sudden movements the female soldier might make. Oh yes. He _knew_ that he was dealing with a soldier, and a trained one at that. He could tell from the shadow of her movements and the sound of her rythmed footsteps when she'd been approaching him; they had been measured and light, balanced and ready for action.

When he had finally drawn his body to its full height, he finally could see whom he was face to face with. A woman of pale complexion and pink hair, clothed in the strangest garb of black and white he had never seen before. She was standing with her feet slightly apart, now eyeing Cloud's hand that was on his sword. She had a sword of her own on her back, and also a matching red shield on her left arm. A melee fighter?

The woman was first to speak. "You don't look like a hunter from around here."

Strange accusation. Cloud thought of some response. Questions would come first, he decided. "Who are you?"

Her expression remained impassive and guarded, even as she raised her eyebrows. "I should be the one asking." Then her green eyes travelled to his left arm and widened.

Within that very second Cloud's body had moved on its own; reflexes taking over. He had drawn First Tsurugi, solidified his stance, and deflected a fast blow aimed at his head with his blade. He didn't think when the woman slashed at him again, only responded. He changed the angle of his blade to block the attack, received the weight, then used it to fling the attacker into the air.

"Who sent you?" the woman bellowed as she landed several meters away. Damn she was quick! Should he not have the S-cell infused into his blood his head would probably be rolling onto the ground.

"What're you talking about? Nobody did." He couldn't understand what she was implying but very well knew that the mark had meant something to her to trigger such hostility.

"Don't act stupid, l'Cie!" she spat. Again the female soldier launched an attack. But this time, with a conjured magic Cloud had not expected.

He had no time to neither curse nor think as he jumped to his right to avoid a blast of thunder. The solid tree trunk where he had been cracked. A second spell was already cast, dropping the temperature by ten degrees before knife-sharp icecicles flew at him. He swung his massive sword to crush them, and with one dash he came at her. He was not going to play easy to kill with an enemy like her; staying on the defensive for too long would mean death.

One strike, two, hard blow directed low. Good, she fell for it. The woman had not been prepared to be counterattacked that swiftly and so she was forced to raise her shield in defense. An inch before his Tsurugi made contact to her shield he separated one sword. The heavier weapon staggered the woman, then he used the lighter one to aim for her unprotected side.

Only to meet a wall built by magic. Was that Protect? How could she cast it so fast?

Cloud dashed back. And blinked. Twice.

Had the woman just _changed _garb?

She was now clad in a clothing that looked like a combination of a white sleeveless shirt, purple skirt and steel armor that covered her feet and arms. Her sword and shield had also changed: they were now of a different design, almost tribal in appearance, and had carvings and rougher edges to them. The woman stood, body still tense, but she was holding her sword in a passive manner. She had her eyebrows fiercely drawn and seemed to be whispering something under her breath.

Cloud's hearing picked up her murmur: "All right, Hope. You watch for any strange readings."

Against Cloud's logic she lowered her weapon. "You weren't lying?" she asked him.

"I wasn't." Cloud lowered his swords too. Still, he readied himself should the woman change her mind and lunge again. The mastered materia he had equipped to First Tsurugi would be ready the next time she made a suspicious move.

"You're not from here?"

Finally a question he could answer. "I'm not."

The woman looked dubious at first, but then slightly accepting after she scanned him from head to toe. "Where are you from?"

"Let me ask you a question first. I believe it is my turn," he said.

She glared but kept her mouth in a firm line. Her grim expression translated as '_Go ahead but I'll behead you if you try anything funny._'

Cloud contemplated if his question constituted as funny, but he asked anyway. "Where am I?"

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x -0- x

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_**A/N: **Couldn't resist it any longer. _


	2. Chapter 2

A Final Fantasy VII/XIII fanfiction by Lushard

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**Chapter 02**

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Vincent Valentine had always relied on his instincts. As a former Turk, his brain had been his greatest asset, his main tool on solving most cases and on doing the most impossible missions. He'd learned how to gather information, carefully fitting them into mental slots in his mind and linking them in order to get the final picture. _Observe, memorize, and analyze._ It was literally '_think as you breathe.'_ Every Turk was trained to operate that way. No wonder, since their primary job usually required their logic to work at full force.

But now, all logic failed him.

In the longest one minute of his life Vincent Valentine had failed to process thoughts and information that his senses were feeding him. His eyes swept warily across the dark room he had been transported into, his radar telling him of unexplainable things that translated as dangers.

Not twenty seconds ago, he had been lodged comfortably in his apartment the new ShinRa had provided for him in Edge, busying himself with bundles of papers and books, when suddenly, thunderclouds so dark rolled over the city. He had never witnessed a storm so great. And then there had been the quake, a stinging pain that stabbed him in his right shoulder, then total darkness. Only a minute ago had he regain his consciousness and found himself in a room bereft of light and smelled of dust. The air was humid, almost to the point of dryness, and he could find no explanation to this bizarre occurrence.

The room was full of boxes and carts. It looked like he was in some storage area, and judging from the mess behind him, he had fallen on some boxes, crushing them under the weight of his fall.

'What has happened' was his first initial question, which then moved to 'Where am I' and the question mark danced back and forth in between the two since he could answer neither. But when he heard sounds of footsteps and agitated voices nearing his location, he changed it into 'what should be done now.' He immediately sprung on his feet, dusting his cloak and reaching for Cerberus.

"I swear I heard a loud crashing sound!" Vincent heard a man's voice carried through. The footsteps were drawing closer. Several men. Four. No, five, it seemed. Each was armed. Vincent could hear the faint jingle of metal.

"You sure you hadn't been dreamin'?" another voice cooed.

Not good. There was only one door in the room, and the attic was solid. No trapdoors, not windows, no place to hide. There would be no escape.

"I swear I heard it!" the first man said again, louder this time.

They were drawing nearer; Vincent readied his gun as he moved to a dark corner, as agile and silent as a cat.

The door flung open and light burst through. The men walked briskly in, and without preamble Vincent lunged at the nearest one.

"What the-!" The unprepared man was caught off guard by the sudden attack while the three others scrambled/jumped from the surprise. He yelped as Vincent seized his neck and pinned him to the other side of the stone wall. With a fluid movement the marksman turned around, holding his hostage as a shield in front of him by the neck, his gun pointed at the man's head, his eyes fixed on three men that staggered to assume a fighting stance.

"Move and he will be killed," Vincent said.

The hostage stirred but did not try to break free. His weapon, a steel sword of strange design, had been tackled off his grip when Vincent had caught him. The three others stared with varying degrees of disbelief and fear in their eyes. They lowered their respective weapons.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them asked.

"Drop your weapons."

They didn't comply right away. Not until Vincent's finger moved to pull the trigger and the hostage whimpered. Petty threat, but it always worked. They threw their weapons onto the floor, out of reach.

"Tell me where this is."

At that they all grew rigid. They had these looks on their faces that said 'Are you nuts?' but Vincent ignored them. He repeated the question, slower this time. "Tell me what place is this."

"Why, the base, of course," one of the three men managed to answer after a moment of silence. Vincent noted that they were all dressed in strange attires. Leather, mostly, with belts and strapped pockets and bandanas. Clothes that were designed for flexibility and speed. They didn't look like any regular mercenaries.

"What base?"

Again with that disbelieving look. Vincent took notice of the dust and sand collected under their boots and finally came into conclusion that he may very well be in a desert.

"The Monoculus'," another man replied. "Wait, you barged in without knowing what place is this?"

To that question Vincent didn't have any answers. He only knew that he had, somehow, been snatched from his flat and dumped here, by means he did not yet know. He again observed the men before him one by one, taking a closer inspection. The didn't seem as hostile as they had been before. Maybe they had thought of him as a ransom thief or the likes, but now they openly viewed him as a madman.

Vincent thought of what move he should take next. Questioning these people further would not give him anymore clues about his situation. And then there was still this insistent pain, although dull and not severe in intensity, that throbbed him in the shoulder that he had not yet checked. An injury from the fall was likely.

"Do you have a leader then?" He turned his questioning towards a new direction. Revealing more to these men would only lead him into confusion. He needed to see someone of reason and logic, someone who was open to negotiation and if possible, someone who could explain the situation to him.

The men nodded.

"Bring me to him."

They all looked uncertain, but as they traded glances, it seemed that they knew they had very little option. "All right," one of them said. "Do follow."

The three men walked through the open door with Vincent, still holding his hostage at gunpoint, several steps behind. The door led right into a corridor of stone, with candle holders that looked antique in appearance lighting the structure. The ceiling was high, and there was a second floor and possibly higher floors to this building. Vincent's gaze darted from left to right as they walked, absorbing everything, noting every detail. And each detail would only bring more questions. Never had he been in a building so strange and exotic.

The interior looked rather ancient, something he only imagined existing in children's books and classic literature. As they ventured and passed high ventilation windows on one side of the wall, he could finally see the dark night sky above. So it was nighttime. It explained why there wasn't so many people about.

The three men turned at a forked road until they arrived at the end of the corridor. There was a doorless room from which fire light could be seen. They stopped. Vincent did too, and to the squirming man in his hold he tightened his claw's grip around his neck.

One of them disappeared into the room, possibly to inform the 'Boss,' as they had called their leader, about everything. After a long one minute he came out, and nodded to Vincent to proceed. Slowly he walked in, never letting go of his hostage.

Before him was a woman; a tall woman with tanned skin, whose curly dark hair was loose around her warrior's shoulders. Her clothing consisted of a dark leather shirt that exposed her toned belly and a piece of blue linen that had strange design patterns at the hem. On her back was a red lance that seemed ready to brandished. Her chocolate eyes narrowed at Vincent's entry. Intelligent eyes, he saw, yet at the same time full with distaste and curiosity that she didn't bother to hide. From rough observation of the way she carried herself, she looked like a free soul, someone who wouldn't bind herself to rules, and certainly someone not to mess with.

The woman shifted her weight to one foot, one hand moving to her hip. She didn't look the tiniest bit intimidated or uneasy at his presence, though her eyes lingered at Cerberus for several seconds before moving up and down his figure. "So you're the mysterious intruder," she drawled.

That was a strange accent. A bit similar but unlike that of Wutai people. Deeper, richer.

Vincent chose his words with care. "I have questions. I need answers and thought you might be able to provide me with some."

"Blunt words," she said, looking more amused than alarmed. "Oh, and you can let go of the poor soul. Surely your questions don't require bloodshed?"

Vincent measured her once again, then his bets. He could fight if things got worse. The woman looked like a capable lancer, but escape could be sought if he was ever cornered. The corridor was behind him, and he had memorized the route they'd taken to get here and although he hadn't seen it, he had good guesses where the exit would be. Designs may vary, but structures were always predictable.

As if reading his thoughts, the woman said, "No worries there. I don't cut people's throats open if they don't point their weapons first." More like an afterthought, she added, "Only I think of them deserving. Or annoying."

He withdrew Cerberus and let go of the man. He quickly darted to the side of the room where his friends were, away from his captor, a hand ran to his neck as if to check whether Vincent's claws had left scars.

"Now, Mr. Red Cloak, how may I help you?"

"Where is this?"

"Ah, you're as clueless as they said," she said. To the four men she said, "Relax, he's not lying."

Was the woman an expert lie-detector? Perhaps. She seemed to be more than a regular warrior.

"To your first question: you are in the Dead Dunes," she said to Vincent. "Presently, at the very headquarters of the Monoculus, the de facto ruler of this desert."

Desert. He had been right then.

The city of Edge had been nowhere near any desert he'd known.

Oblivious to the swirling thoughts and slight panic that were raging within her listener's mind, the woman continued. "We are the last surviving bandit gang here if you don't know what we are. All others have already been disbanded years ago. We're growing in size, but not so much compared to how we used to in the old days. Many have given up their treasure hunt."

Vincent's Turk instincts were on high alarm, beeping in his head as questions upon questions were raining down on him. "Bandit gang, you say?"

"Yes. And so it appears you have been stranded into a foreign land. Mind telling us where're you from?"

He considered if telling them the truth was a wise decision. It wasn't. But he did not see how he could lie given so many things that were still baffling him. "Midgar," he curtly replied, reluctant to give any details.

All the people there shared a confused look. "Never heard of the place," the woman said. "Must have been wiped out of the map too then."

Another question popped up in his head but he remained silent. Why would she assume so? It didn't sound like a baseless conjecture, so there supposed to be reasons to back up that strange remark. He added a note to himself: dig more into the land's history.

"All right, so now right down to the case," said the woman. "Why were you doing in our basement?"

Truthfully, Vincent had no answers. But from all the pieces of information he had gotten so far, he was a far shot from Edge, or worse, even from the Planet itself. There had been this one thing bothering him ever since he'd - somehow - arrived here, and he just realized that it was the lack of presence of raw energy that usually kept the Planet pulsing. He couldn't feel the Life Stream.

Turks training kicked in. A list of possibilities appeared in his mind, along with the options he currently had. What could he construct from all those tidbits of evidence? Ah. The storage area. He was certain he'd seen bags of flour in a corner down there. The boxes he'd smashed when he'd fallen too had smelled of fresh ransom.

"I was stranded as you said," he said carefully. "And I had nothing edible with me at the present."

"Food then?"

He assumed what he thought as a look of guilt as his eyes purposively avoided hers. Not that it mattered. The high collar of his garment would undoubtedly cover half of his face anyway, but he tried.

And it succeeded. "Hmm. Logical, though it seems that questioning you further about _how _you managed to get in here will be kind of tricky." Partially. This woman was smart. It was a surprise she was not pressing for details. Maybe she was sensing his discomfort, maybe she was being lenient, maybe she had been in his spot, for whatever maybe's, Vincent was glad he didn't have to elaborate his case. What sane person would believe him if he told the truth anyway?

"In any case what will you be doing now?"

The question startled him. "You're not going to imprison me?"

It was the woman's turn to look puzzled. "You were thieving, yes. But aren't we all? We welcome those who are without ransom or a place to stay."

She said it so casually that it took more than three seconds for the full sentence to register in Vincent's head. He chanced a look at the four men. They had the same placid expression over their faces, as if what their boss had said was nothing out of the ordinary. He looked at the woman again.

"I can stay?" he asked, wondering if this was this was a trap. If it was, what would she gain from him?

The woman made a careless gesture with her hand. "The Monoculus is open for everyone. As long as you work, that is."

So, it was to enslave him. "What work?"

"Searching the ruins for the clavis."

Three questions appeared on his mind all at once: first, 'there were ruins?' and second, 'what is this clavis thing?' and third, 'why is it that you're searching for it?'

But before he could prioritize one of them, the woman spoke. "I understand that as a newcomer here, you must have hundreds of questions. Those are printed on your face, in case you were not aware before." She assessed him openly as she crossed her arms across her chest. "But first things first, I think you might want to meet our tailor. You won't survive long in this area with _that _kind of attire."

* * *

VII - x - XIII

* * *

The female warrior facing him had this deep frown on her temple at Cloud's question. Perhaps she was weighing the pros and cons of encountering a crazy guy who happened to stray into the woods.

After a long moment of silence she finally spoke. "The Jagd Woods. How did you get into this place?" was her straightaway counter-question.

Cloud felt a stab of insecurity as, once again, he took a sweeping glance at his surroundings. He'd never heard or seen a forest named the Jagd Woods all in his life, and he had been in ShinRa, and had spent months travelling all over the world searching for a way to save the Planet. If the maps he and his comrades had drawn during their travel were incomplete, there never would be a better version that existed. "I don't know," he admitted.

The woman's face almost twisted in disbelief. "Honest, aren't you. Tell me, is this related to the brief storm?"

'What storm' was what he was about to ask, but then the dots finally connected. The storm that had hit his place must have also come to this forest. But was that the answer to everything? _I was magically transported by some strange storm_ didn't seem like a smart explanation. Cloud simply nodded once.

Again she studied him with undue scrutiny, as if by doing so she would get the answers that Cloud didn't even hold. "By any chance, are you not from Cocoon?" she asked.

Cocoon? "Is that this place's name?"

She expelled a breath. "So you're not. Figures." In a smaller voice Cloud heard her saying, "You were right then, Hope."

Cloud relaxed his stance but didn't sheath his sword. He gestured at his left arm with a movement of his chin. "You seem to recognize this mark."

A miscalculated step. In an instant the woman's face darkened with a scowl, eyes narrowing in what Cloud could only interpret as a mixture of anger, resentment, and curiosity. "Are you saying that you don't know what that is too?" she asked in a low voice that promised violence were he to lie.

"I don't. The mark appeared mere hours ago, duller then, more visible now."

"Feeling anything? Witnessing strange vision?"

What kind of questions were those? "Just a throbbing pain. No vision whatsoever."

She opened her mouth but promptly closed it again, seemingly to ponder her next approach on the subject. "You don't even know who branded you," she murmured, and sensing that questions were about to roll from the tip of Cloud's tongue, she added, "We can save the chit-chat for later. We have guests."

Cloud's instinct quickly picked up faint sounds of approaching steps that he knew didn't belong to humans. Monsters? He readied First Tsurugi and eyed the woman as she did the same with her sword.

"Dyrads," she said, just at the time when three figures that resembled living roots emerged from behind tall trees. "Attack with fire."

Without preamble she dashed right to face the nearest foe. Cloud activated his mastered Fire Materia as he stood in the back. The woman was a skilled fighter. She moved lightly on her feet, using both her sword and her shield in a series of quick movements of both defense and attack, a blur of movements between the root-people with ease as she slashed and stabbed. Cloud, finished with the magic, unleashed Firaga at one of the Dyrads who was farthest from her. It hit her in the body, and soon the fire enveloped the monster. The forest almost quaked with the shrill sound of its shriek.

The woman jumped back to avoid an attack. Her garb magically changed again. Cloud hadn't been imagining things then. This time, he witnessed it happening: a cape of light enshrouding her, and in the next second, she was with a new set of garment and equipments colored in red.

She gave him a quick glance. Cloud took it as the cue to switch roles, and swinging his sword, he jumped at the Dyrad in front of him.

The moment the tip of his blade made a contact with the Dyrad's midsection, he felt something inside him snap. The blade cut through without any difficulties, but it went beyond that. Somehow, there was this raw power within him that was growing. He couldn't explain, couldn't comprehend or paint it in words; he could only feel it surging through his system. That one attack was enough to devastate one Dyrad, and before he could think of anything he had already dashed to the last remaining monster, his other blade at play. The lighter sword slashed through the Dyrad's body, cutting its legs, then his Tsurugi fell like a hammer on its head. It did not even have time to shriek.

Cloud took a step away and tried to control his breathing. The Dyrads were nothing but a glowing mist going to the afterlife. The unknown force within him had ceased, fading away along with the monsters' souls, but the lingering feeling he couldn't put into words were still tingling his limbs. He looked at the woman who was standing statue-still, trying to control his breaths and his scrambled thoughts. It was close to impossible. He still felt propelled to act, to use this newfound strength, to jam his weapons at something-anything. There was a wild desire coursing over his veins, demanding him to move, to lash out.

"That was the power that goes along with that curse," she said. Cloud may be mistaking it but there was understanding as well as bitterness that were dipping in her voice.

"I'm-How-"

"Relax," she advised. "Try to imagine it draining away."

He took it and practiced it. Cloud closed his eyes, loosened his grip on his swords, relaxing his stance and muscles.

"Think of nothing."

He shushed the thoughts and questions in his head with great difficulty. Seconds, minutes passed, and slowly he felt the raw power dissipating. Inhale and exhale, and along with it went the alien force within him.

Slowly Cloud opened his eyes. Everything came into focus as he blinked, and he saw the woman still looking at him, her expression unreadable. "Better?" she asked.

Cloud nodded.

"Every l'Cie is bestowed by such power," she said. "You must learn to control it, lest it will corrupt you."

No longer feeling threatened by the woman, Cloud merged the lighter blade into First Tsurugi and sheathed it behind him. "Mind telling me more about this l'Cie thing?"

"I will. After you tell me more about your circumstances. I don't trust a stranger with a sword that huge overnight." Even so, she sheathed her sword. Cloud took that as a good sign. At the very least now he had a guide who meant him no harm.

He told her then, of all the things that had happened in the recent two hours. The woman had listened in silence, but every now and then her brows would rise and fall into a frown and her eyes would widen and narrow. She seemed to have a hard time believing his story, but was simply not saying it out loud. Cloud, on the other hand, kept his tale as short and to-the-point as he could. He felt that the more he told the more exposed he was, especially since he wasn't sure if this was some wicked nightmare or not.

When he was done, the woman had this blank look on her face before she finally blinked it out. "Interesting story," she commented, "however strange it was."

He kept a few comments of the likes to himself.

"What will you do now?" was the question that Cloud had been asking himself.

"Find out a way back."

"Which you don't know how."

He didn't like the notion and utterly despised the next words that he was about to say. "Which is why I might need your help."

The woman looked tentative. One hand was moving to her chin. "I don't think I can though. Nor do I know a person to refer you to."

"Doesn't matter. I'll manage." He hoped that didn't sound as doubtful as he was deep inside. "Just please help me out of this forest first. Will you?"

The habit to be overly cautious whenever he was plunged into a territory he was not familiar of now backfired him. He flinched at every sound the animals-or monsters-made around him, winced at every strange scent that was assaulting his SOLDIER sense. Every now and then he would get goosebumps at the sensation of something crawling on his skin. The forest was filled with air that smelled like magic, and it didn't sit well with him.

"All right, then. Follow me." The woman turned and began walking. Cloud trotted behind her. "And how do I call you?"

"Cloud."

He was sure he saw the woman pausing in midstep. "An alias?"

"No."

Even if he couldn't see her face, he knew what kind of look would be imprinted there. _Everyone _had. Introducing himself had always been a struggle of a lifetime. There were particular moments back in his childhood days that he would rather forget but could not, and they still haunted him every time he was asked of his name.

"How do I call you?" he asked before the woman could make further commentary.

"Lightning."

"An alias?"

"Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

A Final Fantasy VII/XIII fanfiction by Lushard

* * *

**Chapter 03**

* * *

In all his life Cloud had learned that the term 'impossible' was something that should be tossed out of the window. From S-cell experimentation to the schemes of Jenova and Shinra, from the apocalypse to the resurrection of someone with an alien blood, Cloud had been sure that all the mad things normal people would consider putting into fantasy books or fairy tales could be realized.

And now, he had to deal with this…

Taking in a deep breath, and praying for once that he, was sane enough to believe his eyes and senses, Cloud Strife tried to process everything that he was laid before him.

An expanse of green so vast he had never thought of existing. Air so pure without any stench of mako. Scenery so enchanting that he was fearing for his sanity when his gaze fell upon unbelievable structures that could be seen floating in a distance.

They were on the edge of a cliff where they could see the horizon expanded into a seemingly endless sea of green and blue. Once out of the Jagd Woods, Lightning had beckoned him to this very spot where they could get a good view of the place she called The Wildlands. A befitting name, for all the strange creatures he witnessed lurking about the area so far.

Of course, this was not his home planet. He'd known that, seen the evidence from the first time he'd encountered monsters he had never thought of existing. But…

"You believe me now?"

He turned to the woman beside him, who was eyeing him as though she was afraid he would go mad and start shouting nonsense. "Yes," he huffed. Denial was never his forte. Not after the advent; not anymore. Not after he was sure he was not on the verge of unconsciousness because of mako poisoning anyway.

"Where will you be going now?" she asked.

He'd thought about it but had yet to find an answer. "Searching for clues. Anything." Though randomly trotting through a place as large as this is suicide.

"There are a few villages here. One is at the center of the area, one is way south from there, and one is deep within the woods we've just exited. To the north there's a train station, if you're wondering of visiting other places."

"I have no lead." Which made those options were as good as none.

Lightning looked sideways as she thought. "Hm. There's several though."

Curiosity, hope and suspicion arose within Cloud at the same time. "What are those?"

"First, let me introduce you to a friend of mine," she said, tossing him a small device that looked like an ear piece.

Cloud examined the design carefully before fitting it to his left ear.

A voice, a boy's, spoke through the intercom: "Cloud, huh? Nice to meet you."

He looked at Lightning and knew that she heard it as well. She arched her eyebrows as if to say, 'It will not explode; speak.' Well, for one thing, it explained her constant mutterings.

"Yeah," was all he managed to say.

"My name is Hope Estheim," the boy's voice rang again. "I've been monitoring everything and found something that might just be a good lead for you."

There was something odd that nagged at Cloud's mind when Hope had said 'everything' but he chose not to concern himself with the matter for now. He waited for Hope to continue.

"When you arrived here, in this world, there was a brief storm happening all over the world. It passed by pretty quickly. And along with it, I detected anomalies blooming in several areas."

"By this anomalies...you mean-?"

"One of them turned out to be you, or your teleportation, so to speak," Hope picked up quickly. "So if the readings I got some minutes ago could be interpreted with the same logic that brought you here, it means that there should be others, possibly people from your place, who are tossed up here too."

People from his place… People whom he knew? Cloud had a hard time deciding whether he should be grateful at this speculation or be worried. "You can't explain though?" he asked.

"No, sadly, I can't." Hope's voice didn't sound like he was. "Other than the readings I've got nothing more. I have some theories about this phenomenon linked to the Chaos, but so far I can't back those up with data yet."

Lightning had supplied him with a brief tale of what the Chaos was and how it affected the world and the inhabitants, including the monsters, on this planet, and he wasn't about to go all Turk-mode when he was aware that he knew and understand so little about the matter. What mattered now was finding a way back, and if Hope's reading was right, picking up people who got transported here too. All the why's and how's could line up in waiting.

"I could direct you to them if you want," Hope said. "But Light, maybe it's time for you to burn another Chrnostasis. You're still on a mission, after all."

Lightning said "all right" and brought up her right hand. Cloud felt a sudden burst of energy coming out from the woman, and almost yanked out First Tsurugi in reflex. The woman was faster; she snapped her fingers, and suddenly….\

Nothing happened.

Cloud stood still for several beats, looking at Lightning, wary of the changes he was anticipating. What had she just done? He was damn sure that he'd felt a surge of magic flowing out from her hand.

"All set. You'd better go now, Light," Hope said. To Cloud: "There's no need to be all jumpy. It was not something that would harm anybody."

Her magic was nothing offensive? Cloud relaxed a bit and asked, "What did you do?"

"I stopped time," was the unexpected reply.

Cloud stared.

Lightning met his with a flat stare on her own.

He managed to find his voice. "You what?"

It was Hope who answered him. "Stopped time," the boy calmly said. Cloud finally realized what was odd with the boy's voice and speech. He spoke as though he'd seen everything, as though he'd experienced unspeakable things, been through a lot. His voice carried a great sense of knowing and understanding, patience and honed skills one would suppose for an expert scientist to hold when explaining how his theories work. He sounded..._ancient. _Cloud couldn't think of a better word.

"Lightning has been gifted with some abilities beyond those of normal humans' when she was made the Savior. Stopping time is one of them."

"Similar to how the Time Magic works?" Cloud prompted, trying to understand the concept but felt as if he was trying to capture air with bare hands.

"You could say so," Hope affirmed. "But a little differently since it does not affect specific targets but the _world_ in general. It affects all the people, living creatures, and the essence of time itself."

"The world…" The knowledge felt too overwhelming. Cloud had not excelled at his studies in the subject of materia in his cadet days, but even the dumbest of cadets knew there was _no way _Time Magic could actually hinder the world's flow of time. You only disrupt the flow of time of a target and not the _whole _world. Not even your surroundings were supposed to be affected by Time Magic when it was used. The notion that there was a human being who could manipulate time was too hard to be believed when explained in such a simple way. These guys might as well as say that they could sprout wings and fly and breathe fire.

...

Perhaps they could. He'd never know.

"I know this may be hard to comprehend, but it is quite logical when you understand the basis of things," Hope helpfully supplied, and suddenly, Cloud didn't want to know more.

"I'm not interested," he cut in. "Can you just tell me where are the people who might just come in a fashion like I did?"

"I can."

"Will you?"

Now it was Lightning who spoke up. "We will help. But my duty as the Savior comes up first, if you don't mind."

Cloud looked at Lightning, then at the broad, open field ahead of him, at the thick woods behind, then back at the warrior again. "I don't. I'll help you with it all I can. Just spare me the details."

"Fair trade," Lightning said. She started off towards the open field, jumping off from the cliff and landing with a soft thud on the grassy ground below. Cloud jumped down too. "I'm going to a village at the center of the area. Bringing back some required items," she said to him.

"Required?"

"A mission. An errand. A quest. Whatever you call it," said Lightning with a careless shrug as she set to a light jog.

"It is Light's mission as the Savior," explained Hope when Cloud's mind was still stuttering. "She needs to...how do I put it, save souls, free them from the darkness, the Chaos that has corrupted the world."

By helping people?

As if reading his mind, Hope said, "By freeing their minds and hearts from their burdens, yes. I'm sorry I can't go any further without bringing up the history of this land and the Tale of Creation."

At that moment the l'Cie brand, or so the mark was called, stung his arm. The sensation felt like burning but it lasted only for a while. Maybe it reacted to his psyche? Or maybe it was to remind him that he had another mystery to solve.

He eyed Lightning's back, mind suddenly going blank. Perhaps he would give up on all the questions rolling in his head. Perhaps he simply had to accept that absurd things did always happen to him.

"Stories can wait," he said to the boy.

"Sure. There are also questions I would like to ask you, but I guess they too can wait."

All he grasped that he had just met the fated Savior of this planet who ran left and right accepting errands to free souls. Huh. Mad. This was a mad dream, all right; a nightmare. Yes, this must be it. His Geostigma had simply not been cured, or his S-cell had finally taken its demand on his sanity, or Sephiroth had been resurrected again and was controlling his mind from somewhere, or he had unconsciously knocked his head too hard upon waking this morning, or…

...whatever.

Ahead of him Lightning brandished her sword to prepare against incoming jelly monsters that materialized out of thin air. Jelly monsters…? Yeah, right. Cloud readied his and separated the sword into two.

He was in a dream and he would play along, at least until Tifa or some stray monster around the church barged in to wake him up. It was official anyway:

He _was _going mad.

* * *

VII - x - XIII

* * *

Vincent looked at his reflection on the mirror as he fastened the leather belt around his waist. The small room filled with cabinets, stacks of clothes and two large mirrors was where he was currently being trapped in.

Fang, the woman who led the Monoculus, had taken him to an Outfitter who resided at the base after the interrogation. The Outfitter, a man by the name of Luccan who had peculiar eyes and dressed in the strangest fashion that consisted of colorful leather garb and various stitches across his outfit, had looked at Vincent as if he had just grown a third arm. But soon his gaze had transformed into that of fascination. Vincent then had been barraged with questions ranging from the material of his clothes to the current fashion trend and had also learned that the man's curiosity knew no bounds.

"Ah, so they prefer to wear simple outfits that are a combi of shirts and trousers?" Luccan said as he straightened Vincent's new leather jacket. The material was surprisingly smooth and light, so even if the gray jacket had sleeves that reached to his wrists, they felt cool and wouldn't be easily soaked in sweat.

"Yes," Vincent said under his breath.

Luccan's adept hands quickly removed the jacket in favor of a similar piece with a different color. It was dark chocolate this time.

"Now, try this one… Oh, it looks good. Better than the green and gray ones, at least. What of the formal wear? What do they like?"

Vincent tried to rack his brain for words to describe what he took for granted. He saw people in their casual wear every day in his life he almost never bothered submitting what he observed into description. Plus...never in his years had he been tasked to indulge himself in a talk about _fashion_.

"Collared shirt. Trousers and jacket. Dresses or gowns for women."

Luccan spun him, and Vincent, having given up on trying to fight off the Outfitter, simply let himself be a willing subject/mannequin. "That's not very descriptive. Might I ask you to draw some sketches?" Without pausing the man grabbed his note and jotted down Vincent's measurements, and shoved a pair of dark boots into the marksman's arms.

Vincent tried the boots, and luckily they fit right away. "I'm bad at it."

"Silly, that doesn't matter. I only need to see the basic concept." He tapped Vincent's shoulder lightly and waved at the mirror, apparently quite satisfied with his experiment.

Overall, the garb was light and comfortable. The buttoned jacket was designed to protect him against the sun's glare and harsh wind, and the belts secured Cerberus and packs of ammo and pouches. A simple adjustment was made to his sleeves so Vincent could equip his golden claw.

"All that's left is tying up your hair. I just thought of different styles that might suit you. Shall we go for a wild look? Or do you prefer a neater-down-to-earth image?"

Vincent had a feeling that he was simply being toyed at or had just served as a new plaything for Luccan. Nobody had ever been this obsessed in dressing him up, and no, not even his mother. "Do as you will." He just hoped that the eccentric man wouldn't braid it.

"Let's just settle for a low ponytail for now, hm."

Fang strode into the small room when Luccan had announced his work to be done. "All set?" she asked.

Both Vincent and Luccan turned to her and Vincent could have sworn he saw Fang stifling her laughter before her expression settled into a neutral look. Luccan clapped his hands. "He's good to go. The sun won't fry him dry now."

The tall woman's eyes were glittering with amusement, and the slight curl of her mouth was telling Vincent that he found his ordeal of going through Luccan's torment, more so than his change in appearance, funny. "Doesn't look all that bad, I must say," said Fang. "We'll be heading into the ruins now. There are mysteries to solve and treasures to discover."

"Then we go now." He was more than happy to leave the cramped place. Nodding his thanks to Luccan, he grabbed his red cloak as he followed Fang out.

"Cannot part from your old wear, can you?"

"I figure it will be handy in fighting off the wind and sand."

"Suit yourself."

The people at the base still threw him somewhat curious glances as they went, their eyes particularly trained on Vincent's claws. He'd noticed that most of the bandits here were equipped with either daggers or swords. Only a very few could be seen armed with rifles or guns. No shields, no bracers. Strange fighting styles. He had yet to see these men in combat, but he knew they were all experienced and proficient.

Fang walked him outside, where, for the first time since Vincent had come here, he realized just how brutal life must be on a desert. The sun was directly stinging him, the wind dusty and the temperature was threatening to melt him into a pulp. It was thanks to the strange ways his body worked that he did not suffer as much as he would were he still a normal hume. He wrapped his cloak about his person.

"There are a few entrances that lead to the ruins," Fang informed. They hiked north until the base disappeared from view and all there was to see was sea of sand and rough edges of rocks and crude cliffs. "They are all scattered in the area, but each will lead into the same maze. From there, only the gods know how deep it goes."

"And your clavis is buried down there?"

"I speculate so. So far we've got nothing but junk and stone walls. There are mechanisms. Old and rusty. Not working. We're still figuring out a way to make them work once again."

"I am no mechanic."

"I'm aware of that. Still, you might figure something out. You have an astute observation. That might come to be useful."

He didn't object to the praise but was silently trying to decipher the true meaning behind her words, especially the 'useful' part. Since Hojo, he was never on a friendly terms with the word.

Fang suddenly stopped. "I hope your skills in battle will aid us too."

Monsters. Whose looks he had never seen before. Wolves with curved claws and long tails, vicious fangs and multicolored fur. Cerberus was shooting bullets before they managed to get close.

Fang whistled when they made holes in two of the five wolves' heads.

"My turn." She dashed forward, and played her lance in a deadly dance. Her movement was fluid and measured. Speed wasn't her weapon; it was her ever-changing stance and solid defense, coupled with balanced counterattacks that rarely missed vital points. Magic came into play too. No-materia-magic, to be precise. Vincent didn't try to pry. He'd told himself to observe first and ask questions later.

The journey continued with occasional battles, little talk, and a lot of skidding and slipping. Vincent had rarely navigated around such a sandy terrain. Fang, on the other hand, walked as if the ground was concrete. He tried to imitate her movements for a smoother stroll.

Minutes, or maybe even an hour, had passed by when they got a glimpse of a tall structure standing in the horizon. "Is that an entrance?" Vincent asked.

"Yes. From there we'll dive deep. Don't worry, it won't be as hot there."

He sure hoped so.

The entrance looked more like an entry to a really old cathedral by design. There were many carvings and symbols on the granite wall, dizzying patterns Vincent had only seen in history books. Only these were weirder. There was no door. An opening led them straight to a set of stairs leading downwards, and thankfully Fang was right: the air got colder with each step they took in descent. The smell wasn't as humid as he had thought too, indicating that the corridor would indeed lead them deep into the belly of this desert.

Torches lit the passage, providing them with enough light to wander about without stumbling. Vincent's fingers were trailing along the wall as he proceeded. He was making out of the texture and carvings, thinking about how ShinRa historians would have screamed in delight upon finding such an ancient treasure. Rufus would pay millions of gil to get a site like this searched thoroughly.

The corridor ended in a large room where several men and women were gathered. They were either bent low on their knees, digging at dirt, or glued to the carved wall, seemingly preoccupied in whatever research that interested them. Most were armed, but all were equipped with flashlights and computer tablets.

Fang walked to a nearest man who was typing on his tablet furiously like a madman. "How's it going, Jarg?" Fang asked.

The man called Jag looked up and his young face looked pale and unhealthy under the glow of the torches. His short-cropped hair was dyed in two colors: gold and red, and the thick glasses that hung low on his nose bridge made him look more like an old man. "Not so much of a progress, Fang," he spoke in a hushed, tiny voice as if words he conveyed held secrets. "I am trying to decode all these carvings, putting up one pattern to another, but so far I've only been rewarded with more riddles. There was no story of the locked door save for a mention of it being only be accessible by someone with the holy power of Etro."

"No good news," Fang muttered.

"No," Jarg agreed. "I can tell you so far the myth had predicted almost all the things that have happened in the last five hundred years, but nothing more. It speaks of the calamity, the fall of Cocoon, and also of our immortality, but nothing more."

Immortality? Vincent looked sharply at Fang. The woman didn't notice and continued conversing. "Could it be that the prophecy fail to perceive of events to come beyond it?"

"I doubt that. They had been right all along and there is no cue that Etro was limiting her vision. The ancient people had the Yules. We have these carvings." He spread out his wiry arms to emphasize his point.

"The ancients liked to sizzle our brains," Fang chuckled.

"So much that they started creating the Yules and programmed them in such a way that they would die before fifteen. If we could somehow find a formula on how the Yules work, then maybe…maybe, we could find something worth our while. Not to mention the time paradox they created." As if he had just seen Vincent, Jarg's bright blue eyes rest on the tall figure, narrowing at the sight of his claw under the cloak. "A new recruit?"

"Yes. The name's Vincent," Fang said.

Not sure of what to do or what to say, Vincent simply nodded at Jarg.

"Not the speaking type, are you? Ah, and speaking of newcomers, there is this strange person I heard intruding into the deeper levels, Fang."

Vincent had been told that all of those who were interested in exploring the ruins must first report to the Monoculus. Intruding into the ruins could be seen as a crime that promised retribution.

"Oh? I didn't hear," the woman shrugged. "When was she found?"

"She has just been found an hour ago in one of the chambers below. The girl's mad, I heard. The research party found her trying to peel the wall."

Peel the wall?

"Searching for buried gold, she said."

Vincent's insides suddenly lurched.

Gods above, this couldn't be…

He cleared his throat. "By any chance…is this girl short in stature and has a short, black hair?"

Jarg looked at him curiously and so did Fang. "And is there a chance she's your acquaintance?" asked Fang.

Vincent frowned. "Could be." The strange phenomenon of his magical transport into this realm must have not only had one victim. He hadn't thought of the possibility of anyone from his home world, or his friends, in that matter, had also been snatched.

The thought unnerved him. "Can I meet this intruder?" he asked Fang.

"Interrogation is ought to be done—she will be brought to me eventually. But since we're here, might as well as pay a visit." Fang thanked Jarg and went into one of the openings that continued in a twisting corridor and stair cases. They did not need to wait long though.

As soon as they were two levels down they could hear a high-pitched shriek of a young woman's. "Untie me, you bastards! I swear I don't know any of your bullshit, just let me go! I found that first! That is _my _treasure!"

Vincent ignored the weird look Fang gave him and sprinted faster.


End file.
